


Childish Things

by pr_squared



Category: Forgotten Realms
Genre: Coming of Age, Drow, F/M, Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pr_squared/pseuds/pr_squared
Summary: A drowess grows up
Kudos: 3





	Childish Things

Am I your first, Iacchus had asked me?

I kept my body moving deliciously against his and gazed deeply into his deep blue eyes as I considered my answer. His blue eyes always sparkled in the candlelight. Well, I thought, like any girl of the Ilythiiri, I’d had a precious spider or two. I have always kept a sweet kitty and keep one still but Iacchus was certainly my first boy.

You are my first, I admitted honestly and he smiled as if he had won some sort of contest. Truly, he was the first boy I had ever owned though I carried more years than his grandmother and shared pleasure with more males than he had had hairs on his pubes before I had had him depilated. 

My lady mother had sent Laellaraxae Godeth and her daughter Luadiira-tyrr to care for me at the Academy. Luadiira-tyrr was a good friend. She and I had grown up together. Her family had long served our House. She also sent VeszlynAnt Hun'val from our Household Guard to serve as my bodyguard. He was good with his sword, in the metallic sense, and a pleasant enough fellow but simply and totally not my type. I made it my practice to call him “Uncle” to quell any amorous intentions on his part. 

My Ilharess had also insisted I buy a boy to “warm my blankets,” as she put it. Believe it or not, she had teased, my Lady Mother had once been young too and didn’t want her daughter to decide that she’s in love with the first one to find her clitoris. Well, I had found my clitoris decades before and made good use of its capacities but who wouldn’t want to own her own boy.

My eldest sister, Olorae, recommended that I buy a rivvil boy, a mannish boy, they call themselves. They are cute when young, though their looks fade quickly. They are very prolific, so the price is never too dear. They tend to be strong and robust, though with little inclination toward dangerous magic. Properly trained, they can be endearingly loyal. Many of my friends bought one too. 

I find the odor of the slave market distasteful. Luadiira-tyrr chose Iacchus and brought him through the streets to my apartments, blindfolded and restrained. I felt his fear when I removed his shackles. He showed that he had had some training, though. He knelt and kissed my sandaled foot.

I did have to break him of some typically masculine obstinacy. Vlondril suggested that a thorough whipping might break him. Luadiira-tyrr tried but accomplished little. He was too pretty to mark too brutally and we wanted to adjust his attitude and not damage him. I don’t like too many scars on a boy. 

My friend Xune had had similar problems with her Diomedes that improved only when she had had him castrated. She now calls him her sweet boy. 

“Too sweet – perhaps even cloying,” Charnidra, another friend, teased. “If you wanted a girl, you should have purchased a true female.”

“Simple potions provide the necessary male arrogance when desired,” Xune explained, “and his own desires no longer compete for his attention. 

Olorae came to my assistance with a gift. The device with its harness was awkward to wear and at first as uncomfortable for me as it was for Iacchus. With practice though, I became skilled and confident. My physical gratification was spiced by the thrill of mastery. I taught Luadiira-tyrr and she learned readily. One evening, I invited Vlondril, Xune, and Charnidra for dinner and introduced them to my new toy. With much anxiety and nervous chatter, they took up the challenge, though with more eager enthusiasm than skill. 

The special evening ended very late and Vlondril and Charnidra left for their own beds while Xune accepted my hospitality and stayed the night. 

Luadiira-tyrr and I undid Iacchus’ bindings and helped him to his feet. The poor boy, whimpering and trembling, could barely stand, even with our assistance. He had exhausted himself straining against his unyielding bonds. His pale skin was chilled though slick with sweat. The scented oil used as lubricant dribbled down his leg. Olorae’s device was thoroughly soiled and the dishes from our repast still waited his attention. As it seemed unlikely that he could fulfill his duties, I reassured him that he might rest and clean up in the morning. He was unable to stand unaided.

“Should I call Uncle to help us?” Luadiira-tyrr asked.

“Just you and me,” I told her though Iacchus was heavy and it wasn’t easy.

The two of us helped him to his cot. I gave Luadiira-tyrr my gown and jeweled sandals. Clad only in my shift, I laid myself down beside him and wrapped him in my arms. He did not acknowledge my presence yet he did not pull away. Gradually, he sank more deeply in my embrace. I pressed my lips to his bare skin and tasted his salty perspiration and his delicious fear. 

“Will you be all right?” Luadiira-tyrr whispered, peering at me in the dim light.

I nodded, yes and waved her away. 

Iacchus and I both slept but I awakened first. I ran my hands over his strong body, enjoying his masculine angularity, the heavy muscles under his smooth skin. Vividly, I recalled the intense pleasure I had taken from him. I found his sex, eager with the vitality that morning brings to healthy males and took him gently in my hand. 

He awoke with a start. “Lady!” he exclaimed.

I ignored his words and silently continued my efforts until his body surrendered completely to my ministrations.

You are my sun and stars, my Iacchus had told me later. I know he meant it as a compliment, but I had never left the underworld then and so knew little of his sun and stars. The sun, I’m told, is painfully bright and the stars are said to be beautiful but too dim to offer useful light.

Once I met this charming fellow at a dance, Guloynica Hun't'tar was his name. I proffered an invitation and he eagerly accompanied me to my apartments. I chuckle still to recall his face when my Iacchus greeted us at the door. Naked and simply magnificent, Iacchus removed my jeweled sandals and washed my tired feet. Humbly, he asked my would-be suitor, if he would accept the same service. 

Brave Guloynica, always first in the melee, sword in hand, if you believe his boasts, was utterly speechless. With typical male vanity, he most likely wondered how his male member might compare to my Iacchus and he had never even seen my boy erect. Aren’t you afraid of him, Guloynica had asked stupidly once he had regained control of his faculties? Where are his shackles and restraints? Where is your whip? 

True, my Iacchus stood a head taller than I stand and carried twice my bulk without a dram of fat but he is simply mine, I explained. I do not need clumsy bonds of cold steel. Does not our Goddess weave her webs of silk, stronger than any steel? I did have a whip but kept it out of sight. Luadiira-tyrr wields it on the rare occasions when it is required as I find little pleasure in its use. My mother tells me that the sport is an acquired taste. 

As others, I greeted the end of my days at the Academy with both happiness and dread. Iacchus served me fully and well through my 4 years of training at the Arach-Tinilith. Time to put away your childish things, my Lady Mother chided, though she took real pride in my high standing with the High Priestess. My mother, sisters, and I wore our finest for the commencement ceremony. Iacchus was totally surprised when I asked him to accompany us. 

“If I were as pretty has he,” Luadiira-tyrr quipped, “I’d go naked too.”

VeszlynAnt, always practical, had retrieved restraints from who knows where. He held them up and I waved him away. I could manage my Iacchus quite adequately without resorting to anything so crude.

My Lady Mother and sisters, Olorae, Umrae, and Xullrae walked to the Temple in our finery with Iacchus among us. He had never seen our magnificent city and its wonders awed him. He took my hand for comfort and I gave it readily.

Each postulant’s family waited in a separate chamber. My mother saw my growing anxiety. “Time to put away your childish things,” she said to encourage me. Somehow, I found comfort in her stern advice. As I ranked high in my class and in the esteem of my teachers, I was called early to receive my honors. 

I took Iacchus’ hand and led him into the Temple and down the aisle. My mother and sisters followed. The High Priestess stood, flanked on one side by the officiating Priestess and by the Jabbress of Postulants on the other. Several sturdy acolytes stood on either side to assist as needed. Anxious, Iacchus looked to the left and the right. I squeezed his large pale hand in my smaller black hand,and hissed a warning that he keep his eyes forward and just keep walking.

We reached the altar. I signaled and Iacchus knelt as I had trained him. Kneeling, his head still reached my shoulder. We had practiced it a hundred times at home. The High Priestess smiled to see that he bore no shackles. The Jabbress of Postulants nodded her approval. Iacchus turned his head and looked quickly at the unfamiliar surroundings and searched my face for encouragement.

The Priestess said the necessary words and I offered the required responses. Then I urged Iacchus to lie supine on the altar and he did as he was bidden. The acolytes moved forward to secure his limbs but I shook my head to warn them away. They were not needed. I answered his trusting smile with a smile of my own and covered his sparkling blue eyes with my hand. Neatly, I cut his throat, offering him to our beloved Goddess Lolth. Blood coursing down his broad, pale chest and spilled over the altar. As a postulant, I had spent many hours cleaning it after sacrifices. I took my hand from his eyes and he looked at me beseechingly. I took his head between my hands and kissed his forehead, careful to avoid his blood and protect my costly gown. In the end, it was not much different than offering a cat – just more bloody.

My older sister Olorae congratulated me heartily. I thanked her for the use of the blade. My younger sister Umrae mumbled her congratulations. She had yet to wield the knife. At the reception, the High Priestess greeted me. She saw my sadness. “The boy meant much to you and that will make your offering yet dearer to our beloved Goddess. The Jabbress of Postulants congratulated me and added some instruction, namely, unless we can part from our possessions, then they own us and not we them. Nothing could lighten my mood until I saw the lovely twin boys my mother and sisters had purchased for me. 

Drow glossary  
Arach-Tinilith Temple of Lloth  
Ilharess matron  
Ilythiiri Drow  
Jabbress mistress  
Lolth Spider Goddess of the Drow  
Rivvil human – the mannish race

**Author's Note:**

> Found this old tale and it stands up upon rereading.  
> I hope no one is offended for any violations of canon


End file.
